Freebird
by ihadnowittyusername
Summary: Evelyn finds a fifteen year old Jack on the side of the road and takes him home with her to try and introduce him into the Mercer household. Or, with Angel back in hot water, Jerry pursuing a new business venture and Bobby rarely around, what's left of it
1. Sic Transit Gloria

**Free Bird. Chapter One.**

**disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from the movie, the movie (which is sad because I don't even have the dvd yet : ( ...no extras for me!) or any of the plot elements taken from the movie and injected into my story.  
****an: I'm unsure if this is going to be an epic or a tale. More importantly, I'm unsure of where this is going. I know that Jack's introduction into the family has been done so many times that we all now accept on some kind of common ground the events surrounding it. I hope this is in some way different. I'm also unsure if this beginning makes me sick and/or twisted. Boy-oh-boy do I hope not. On with the show:  
****I.**  
One was forty-three. Relatively handsome and living a lie. He kept on telling the other one that it was alright even when it wasn't. He kept his fingers curled into his messy hair and tried smiling so he wouldn't face what was really happening. He didn't want to think about it actually. He felt sick when he thought about it. He wasn't a bad person. Really. He also kept on convincing himself that the one, the other one, was legal. He was tall enough to be of legal age. That made it a little less daunting. Thinking that it was actually a consenting adult instead of a child on his knees and that he wouldn't have to pay him afterwards.

He _wasn't_ of legal age. Fifteen to be exact. He kept his eyes lowered and his teeth gritted as if not allowing the reality of what he was doing sink in. He had done it many a time. He didn't even really mind it anymore. It was instinct. Pure instinct. He had been conditioned to think about the money and the money only. All he needed was to survive and it was really the only thing that he could do. He kept glancing at his back pack feet away from him. It bothered him. When he did _it_, he liked to focus. Things in his peripheral reminded him that he was on Earth still. Not in some dream, nightmare, or alternate universe.

"You need help with that?" the man chuckled some when the fifteen year old, on his knees, took longer than expected unbuttoning his slacks. He stopped to wipe the sweat off of his forehead. He was trembling, his fingers shaking nervously, almost the extent of feebleness when it came to getting the dress pants down.

"Um," he stood and looked around the dark alley with some contempt, "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry," he pulled the knife out from his waist band, "I need your wallet,"

He had known from the beginning that the guy was rich. He just had that kind of air. That kind of 'I-could-buy-if-I-really-wanted-to' attitude. The kid had run into many of his kind. "Don't do this kid," he scoffed, pulling his leather wallet out and handing it over.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, taking out the cash and handing him back the wallet.

The kid grabbed the back pack cautiously. He backed out of the alley, lowering his head and walking past the black sports car he suspected the man's wife sat in.

How fucking dramatic.

All he wanted was to be normal.

He didn't want still-in-the-closet businessmen to approach him and offer fifties for blow jobs while his unsuspecting wife kept the Benz running.

But he had to have something. He _did_ have enough customers and he rarely approached others. The first one was Chris. Chris, in the back of the bar they had played in the first night he had run away.

He could still remember Rob whispering in his ear.

"_Chris wants to talk to you"  
_"_Who's Chris?"  
_"_The owner. He said he liked your guitar,"  
__**Pause.**  
_"_Where is he?"  
_"_In the b__ack...and Jack...?"  
_"_Yeah?"  
_"_Please don't screw this up. This is our rent money,"_

He could still remember how he felt when Chris just about threw the money at him. He picked it up off the floor, avoiding eye contact, and met Rob outside. The next day Rob had gotten the call that they would be playing every Friday of the rest of the month. It was kind of how he felt, walking past that black sport's car, hanging his head in shame.

That's when he started running.

He didn't stop until he felt some uneasiness in his stomach. He was going to puke. He felt a sickness rising inside of him until he was lurching forward. His knees fell into the muddy lawn and his hands couldn't work fast enough to steady him.

He stayed there for a couple of minutes before rolling over and pulling his knees into his chest.

He still felt the bills in his palm. He was trying to count the money through the tears. Needless to say, it wasn't as easy as he wished it would be.

"One hundred, two hundred, three hundred..."

"Hey," he hadn't even really heard the car pulling up in front of him he was so into counting the money.

He looked around, getting ready to make a mad dash for it. He hadn't gone through all of that just to have his money taken.

She had white hair and a kind face. And her sweat pants and oversized t-shirt told the story of a woman that had just gone out the door for a quick run.

"No. Don't run," the woman said when he saw the kid standing up, "come here," she beckoned, waving the kid forward. When she saw the kid backing away he put is hand up, "No. come. Just stand there. I want to help you ok?" she stepped forward some, "ok,"she smiled some, "let me see your face,"

For some reason the kid trusted her. He trusted no one but for some reason she looked like she wouldn't lie.

He stuffed the cash into his pocket and looked in back of him. "Do you have a home?"

"What do you care?"

"Ahhh...so you _can_ talk,"

"I don't do that anymore," he mumbled, clutching his left arm with his right hand.

"Your face is all bruised up," she ignored his muttering and flicked her thumb over his cheek, "what's your name kiddo?"

"Jack," his voice had thinned out. Not that he had sounded so strong in the first place. Just that he was beginning to sound as if he would cry.

Jack pulled away.

"Ok Jack," she nodded kindly, "my name is Evelyn,"

**review?**


	2. Somewhere Over The Rainbow

**II.**  
Bobby chuckled, getting out of the car and walking around to the driver's seat. "Thank you for the ride," he smiled at the blonde in the car and she nodded, waiting for him to say something else. Nothing else came. At least not from him.

"Will I see you again?"

"You work at my favorite bar. Of course you'll–"

"You know what I mean," she bit her bottom lip and nodded in confirmation, "I get it," she had hurriedly threw on some pyjama pants and a t-shirt to drop Bobby off in. She knew, when he had said that he couldn't spend the night, that she wouldn't _see_ him again. She had just wanted to make sure.

"Wait," he said, sticking his hand in between the window just before it reached the top.

She stopped, but didn't roll it back down.

"How about I take you out? What day don't you work?"

"Thursday,"

"Well Thursday it is," he threw his hands about as if he was making some kind of miracle out of a date.

"Bye Bobby Mercer,"

He backed into the street, waving, before jogging up to the house.

The first thing Jack heard was the jingling keys. Then, the whistling. It was Somewhere Over The Rainbow. He didn't know how to react. Were they being burglarized? Evelyn hadn't mentioned anyone else living there. She had spoken of having three boys but she had said that they were all grown. He had thought it was kind of weird that he was sleeping on the couch but he attributed that to him being a complete stranger and he definitely didn't want to question it and test her generosity. She was already being nice enough by just letting him come home with her. He stood, scanning around the room for some where to hide.

Then, he heard laughing. The laugh of someone who had an inside joke...with themselves. "Katie," he muttered to himself. He rolled the name around on his tongue, just to see how it sounded. Just to see how he felt about it. For anything that Bobby Mercer could say about the girl, she did know how to keep him.

It was a man. Jack knew that. A man with a deep voice. A grown man.

"Fuck," he muttered to himself, his mind racing in a million different ways.

He walked in, holding his mail. Anytime Evelyn didn't like something Bobby did, she left his mail in the mailbox. One thing she definitely didn't like was Katie. Bobby was certain it had something to do with the time that Bobby had, had to borrow some money to get a new paint job after she had keyed his car.

That was always his first indication that she was angry with him. He, of course, was still listed at her house. Had been that way since he had moved out and probably would remain that way for a long, long time. Or, at least, for however long Bobby wanted to stay out of contact with the world.

Jack's eyes widened. He was bigger than him. _A lot_ bigger than him. He was obviously one of those I-played-football-every-single-school-year types. The ones that could produce some kind of 'ring' for every year since middle–

"Who the fuck are you?" of course, Bobby's first instinct was to pull his gun out of his waistband.

Jack froze.

"I...I ... um"

"Where's ma?" Bobby thought back. The door had been locked. Maybe he had gotten in through one of the windows.

The bruise on Jack's cheek didn't help. Bobby knew that if anyone were to try and hurt his mother she would definitely fight back.

"Ma!" Bobby called out, "who are you?" he demanded once more.

He felt the cloud of whiskey leaving him. He was instantly sobered.

"Oh my God! Bobby! Put that away!" Evelyn rushed down the stairs, grabbing Jack by his waist. He pulled away, his breaths labored and thin. He fell backwards onto the couch, covering his ears to block out Evelyn's pleads.

"_Are you alright?"  
_"_Come on..."  
_"_Please answer me,"_

Evelyn glared up at Bobby.

"I thought. He was just standing there all wide-eyed like he had stolen something. Like... he was guilty or..."

"Well maybe if you would come home at a decent time I could have introduced you two!" she snarled, rolling her eyes.

Bobby attempted walking up to the kid. "Look, I'm--"

He reached out to touch him and his breathing intensified. It soon turned spastic.

"Please...just...just go upstairs Bobby. We'll talk about it in the morning,"

"Ma..." he trailed off before walking over to the stairs. He gave a short glance to the kid on the couch.

He had let Evelyn touch him. He could see her working her magic, as usual. She had both of his hands covered, even if they were still covering his ears and she was staring into his eyes. His, were misty. Hers, were determined, "you don't have to hear anything you don't want to," she whispered. Bobby left her. This was her job. What she _knew_ how to do. What she had done with all three of them and now, what she would do with that kid also. And that, scared him.


	3. Born Under A Bad Sign

**III.**  
Jack was sitting on the porch steps, wondering whether or not he wanted to say bye. He had left a thank you note in the kitchen– his favorite room in any house– but bye seemed a little informal. As if there had been a hello. As if someone would be missed. He had run past a lot of nice people and he knew that there generosity always had limits. They would give you some money but never all. He couldn't expect her to ask him to stay again and he wouldn't hope for it, no matter how soft the couch was compared to a park-bench and no matter how good it felt when she made him a sandwich. A fucking ham and cheese _sandwich_. With the crusts cut off like he was in elementary school or something. Then again, he _was_, only fifteen. Sometimes he would forget that. Then there was the issue of this so-called 'Bobby'. Evelyn had explained it all to him.

'_Bobby just has issues. I found him on the side of the road just like I found you. Only he was nearly beaten to death. He just...that's his way of showing me that he's grateful for it all,'_

She had even slept downstairs with him to show him that she wouldn't let anything happen to him. Of course she didn't say that but he knew that, that was what she was aiming for.

She had let him watch late- night talk shows until he had fallen asleep. And of course he didn't remember cutting off the tv but when he had woken up it was naturally, turned off. He liked the image of her coercing the remote out of his hand and tip toeing back to lie down.

She had her quilt all folded up in the recliner she had slept in and he could hear the water running upstairs.

He attempting reaching into his pockets until he remembered that he had none. She had given him some sleep pants to wear after he had gotten out of the shower. He had kept on his same shirt after she had offered him and endless array of short-sleeved shirts. For some reason, he didn't want her to see _those _bruises. They were like his secrets. Either way, he needed his backpack, which, he had assumed was with his pants. His next mission seemed to be finding those.

* * *

"You found him where?"

"On the side of the road. You know where that all-you-can-eat is? The Thai one,"

"Yeah," Bobby leaned into the door frame of the bathroom. He had still felt kind of bad about last night.

"In that field next to there. He was sitting there, rocking back and forth clutching at some money,"

"Money? As in dollar bills?"

"No. Money as in the stuff that people feed their pets now-a-days," she rose an eyebrow and looked at Bobby in the mirror.

"I'm just saying, if he has money then why is he here?"

"Didn't Angel have money when he came to us?"

"Yeah but Angel used to deal drugs,"

"And what makes you assume that he doesn't?"

"You see how scrawny he is?"

"And that would easily explain the bruise on his face,"

"But not why he started crying when I pulled my gun on him,"

"Yeah, and about _that--_"

Evelyn began. It baffled Bobby how she could switch tones so easily. He reasoned that it was from years of practice.

"I know you don't like me carrying it but it would've came in handy if he would've been a burglar or something. You see why I need it now? You letting strangers in the house isn't helping any,"

"He's not a stranger,"

"Because he told you his name he isn't a stranger?"

"No. I don't think so. And besides, I think that you're missing the fact that he _wasn't _a burglar. And you scared him to death,"

Evelyn clipped on her earrings and walked back into her room.

"I think I may stay home today. Or take him with me. What do you think?"

"I'll stay..."

"Absolutely not. You seen what happened last night. Besides, two people should be enough to handle the clinic today,"

"It's fine ma,"

"We'll let _him_ decide. Hurry up and take a shower. I'll go talk to him,"

"You want pancakes or waffles?"

"Neither. I gotta get going,"

"Where are you rushing off to?" Evelyn questioned through the bathroom door.

"Angel wanted me to pick him up from the airport,"

"What do you _mean_ Angel? He didn't tell me he was coming home,"

Evelyn could hear a nervous sigh through the door.

"I think he's in trouble again"

She lowered her gaze and Bobby could hear her descending the stairs.

The first thing that she noticed was that Jack wasn't there. She expected to come downstairs and see him watching tv. Maybe that was a bit unrealistic though. He wasn't in the kitchen either. She did, however, find a yellow post it, obviously taken from the stack she kept by the phone.

_You were kind. Thank you for that. JACK._

She heard the door open and jumped a little. Her smile returned soon enough.

"I..." Jack stopped when he seen the note in her hand.

"You're leaving?"

"I..."

"I can't make you stay Jack but I can tell you that you're always welcome here. Always,"

He nodded and turned towards the door.

"And that I would really like you to stay here,"

"Why? Why are you being so nice to me? I've never given you anything," with the last words his voice thinned. He didn't want to accuse her of wanting something from him but he couldn't think of any other reason that she would be so kind.

"Sometimes...life isn't about giving. But you have given me something. You give me the pleasure of knowing that I won't have to waste hours of my night checking every alley and bus-stop across the city instead of sleeping. Detroit is a big place–"

"So I have no choice?"

"I sound so...domineeringwhen you put it like that,"

"How should I put it?"

"I'm trying to help you Jack. Can I do that?"

He clutched at his left arm. Something he always seemed to do when he felt unsure or vulnerable, "I..."

"Just say yes Jack,"

"Yes"


	4. freebird

**IV.**  
"I know Jer," Bobby leaned into the phone, "it's so weird too. The kid wont look at me at all but when it comes to Ma he's been all over her. No...no. I don't care if she picked him up off of the street. It's creepy. No one should get that attached that easily. So what if he's fucked up? We _all_ were fucked up and it all took us months to trust ma. No. He's in the car. Ma wanted me to get him some clothes. Yeah. So you coming over tonight? Alright. For dinner. Alright, bye," Bobby walked up to the gas-station counter.

"Pump...six," he said, pushing a fifty across the counter.

"Out of fifty? Thirty five is your change,"

"Yeah. Thanks,"

Bobby looked out at Jack had gotten out of the car to throw something away.

He looked quite uncomfortable in his clothes. They were all getting tight on him. It was obvious he had suffered from a recent growth spurt and been low on cash. He kept on tugging at his clothes and looking around to make sure no one watched him.

"You ready?" Bobby fell back into the driver's seat and pulled the car door shut forcefully.

Jack nodded and buckled his seat belt.

"Gotcha a twinkie," Bobby said pulling the twinkie out of his pocket, "oops," he made a short grimace before pulling out one of the half-crushed twinkies and handing the two pack over to Jack.

Jack stared for awhile, trying to decide whether or not to eat it, "I don't eat twinkies..." he kept his gaze lowered, before he decided to just eat it anyway. He didn't want Bobby to get angry at him. The truth was that he had ever had a twinkie. Jack had learned along time ago to stay away from foreign things. Easier that way.

"Uh...look kid: you don't have to eat it if you don't want to," he recovered, noticing the intensity in Jack's face. His furrowed eye brows. His half-squinting, I didn't really get it for you. I always get em and I thought I would be nice and..." before Bobby could continue the kid was nibbling at the twinkie.

He sighed and cut on the ignition, "So how old did you say you were again? Fifteen right?" Bobby could see him nod out of the corner of his eye.

"You talk?"

"Yeah," Jack answered quickly, obviously just to prove the older male wrong.

"Good. Your seat belt," he motioned toward the un-buckled seat belt as if to buckle it himself– his natural brotherly instinct grabbing hold of him– before he noticed Jack pulling himself further into the car door. He retracted, "you hungry?"

Jack nodded again. Why did Bobby decline when Evelyn had offered to make breakfast? Jack somehow knew at that moment that he had wanted to take him out. He wanted to talk. Jack didn't exactly know if he could deliver.

"Good. There's this good Chinese place around here. You like Chinese food?"

Jack hesitated. He liked what he could remember. The one time when his mother had ordered it. Then again, he remembered the same amount about Chinese food as he did about his mother. Which was...next to nothing.

He nodded.

"Alright, so the plan is to eat and then go get my brother from the airport,"

He nodded, unsure of what else Bobby wanted him to say.

"So when's your birthday?"

"Next week,"

Bobby looked over at him, a little surprised at this.

"Oh...where were you born?"

"I don't know," Jack remained staring out the window.

"You got a girlfriend?"

"No,"

"_Boyfriend_?"

"No," Jack said even quicker, his head automatically snapping around.

"Relax kid. I was just joking," he chuckled uneasily. Obviously he didn't find it funny. Bobby nodded as if it somehow did something to ease the silence. "You go to school?"

"I used to. I'm out for summer,"

"No I mean...never mind,"

"Can we listen to music?" Jack finally looked over at Bobby.

"Yeah. Sure. I don't have much in here now,"

Jack turned on the radio. Bobby could see him looking over cautiously every once in a while as he scanned the various stations. He settled on Lynard Skynard and shut his eyes, opening them again when Bobby shuffled around to pull his sunglasses from the visor above.

"You like Lynard Skynard?"

"The guitar. I like the guitar in this song. My band used to do a cover on it,"

Bobby perked up to this, considering that it was the only information Jack had offered so far. "You have a band?"

"I used to. With Rob,"

"Who's Rob?"

Jack looked over nervously. He had shared too much information. "Um..."

"We're here"

Jack got out of the car, waiting for Bobby to lead the way. He held the door for Jack pushed him lightly from behind. Jack was obviously trying to take **everything** in.

"Smoking or non smoking," the cheeky, blonde waitress ruffled Jack's hair a bit and smiled up at Bobby.

"Non,"

"Right this way,"

Jack had just remembered how much he had wanted a cigarette. He was still a little unsure of what was happening. He was still expecting something to go wrong. It always did.

There was something about Bobby that Jack wanted to trust.

Apart of Jack was afraid of him and yet another part of him wanted to know that he could rely on him. Trust him. Maybe it was just that he wanted someone to trust so badly that he would do anything for it. That he would trust just about anyone.

He tugged at his sweater nervously and wiped at his cheek. Sadly enough, the bruise didn't go away. He checked the tips of his fingers just to make sure.

He had taken the pants offered to him but he still held on to his sweater faithfully.

"What happened to your cheek?"

"I fell," it wasn't a lie actually. He did fall. The last time he had scammed someone out of their money he had tripped trying to get away. That time, he didn't catch himself fast enough.

"Ah. That's what I figured,"

"What was so bad that you had to run away from home?"

Jack kept his eyes on the sweet-and-low.

"I don't want to go back there,"

"Fair enough," Bobby smiled, at the approaching waitress and Jack sighed thankfully. Even if Bobby didn't believe him he was willing to leave it alone. It was different than all of the social workers who would always say (caring voice in tote) "..Jack, we can't help you unless you tell us what you need"

He had learned along time ago that they couldn't help him either way. Maybe Evelyn could. Maybe she couldn't. Either way, he would enjoy it while it lasted. And for the first time in a long time Jack felt...relaxed.


	5. Good Times and Bad Times

**V.**  
"Shut your eyes," Bobby ordered, pulling into the airport. Jack did as he was told, keeping his hand stationed on his seat belt. Bobby felt it was merely a precaution. Not personal at all. He sat up in his seat and pulled out the gun he still carried, and hid it under the seat, "alright,"

Jack looked over at him. He could hear him shuffling around in the car but he couldn't decide exactly what he was doing. He didn't really care. As long as it didn't involve him.

"You gonna wait or you coming with me?"

"I'll stay,"

Jack was actually happy to be away from Bobby. Not that he was a bad guy or anything. He just didn't really like being around someone that he didn't know. Or he didn't like being so _close_ to someone he didn't know. Ironic. He especially couldn't handle a crowded airport. Everything, although rather pleasant, was overwhelming. The food. The couch. Bobby. Evelyn. For some reason he wasn't going to run.

He would normally run, as usual, but this time he couldn't help but to stick around. See what life had in store. And even if it didn't turn out well–it rarely did– he couldn't help but to feel as if it would be worth it in the end.

* * *

"Who is this kid again?"

"Ma's new kid. She has me watching him until she gets home for work. She's going to try and get a file on him. She thinks it's better if we spend some time together in case we can keep him,"

"Keep him? Bobby you're talking like he's a fucking puppy. He's a kid–"

"I know, I know. Ma's just... she's convinced that it's something with this kid,"

"Why didn't you tell me this shit on the phone?"

"I talked to you a week ago Angel. How was I supposed to know that I would come home to him?"

Angel folded his arms.

"You gotta admit that he's kind of adorable when he's sleeping," Bobby joked, shrugging, before he walked over to the driver's seat.

Jack jolted awake when Bobby opened the door.

He pulled himself together and looked around.

There was a man standing there, arms folded and looking rather perturbed.

"Excuse me," Bobby stepped back out of the car, "get in the fucking car Angel. Don't be rude,"

Of course, he did.

Angel didn't want to but he wasn't going to spring for a rental car just to get to his mother's house.

"Jack: this is Angel. Angel: Jack," he said motioning respectively.

"Hi Jack," Angel tried smiling. Jack didn't. He nodded and fell down a little lower into his seat.

He didn't know Angel and he didn't particularly trust Bobby. The only reason he had felt safe was because Evelyn had given him her word. She had told Jack that Bobby was harmless. But the guy in the backseat?

"Ma's mad at you," Bobby cocked his head to the side and checked the traffic light. Still red.

"_Fuck_ Bobby. Do you gotta tell her everything?"

"She asked me where I was going. What was I supposed to say?"

"To the store. To Jerry's. To Timbucktoo," Jack could see Angel throw his hand about in what seemed to be the way to Timbucktoo.

"You shouldn't be lying to ma _anyway_," Bobby looked over at Jack just to make sure he was still there. Still there. Still ok.

"I didn't lie,"

"Oh, I'm sorry, you shouldn't have been hiding the truth from ma,"

"Maybe you shouldn't tell her every fucking thing that happens,"

"And maybe you want to get out of my fucking car," Bobby looked back at Angel, waiting on a response. When he didn't get one he continued on.

"And maybe you shouldn't be so hostile," Angel grumbled under his breath.

"What?"

"I didn't say nothing. Man you always think everybody's so afraid of you,"

"No. I just think that you shouldn't talk shit to me while you are," he waved his hands around him to remind Angel of their setting, "in my car,"

Jack seemed disinterested in whatever they were talking about and instead played around with the strap to his backpack. He really hadn't let go of it.

That's when Bobby remembered that he had planned on asking Jack about the money and where he had gotten it from.

"Can we listen to music?" he looked up at Bobby hopefully. Bobby nodded.

"Yeah kid. Go ahead,"

Once more, Jack turned on the radio, ciphering through the many stations and songs he could possibly want to hear.

Somehow, Bobby knew that there would be many, many opportunities in the future to ask Jack about his past.

"Hey Bobby..."

"Yeah?" Bobby kept his eyes on the road, using one hand to run up and down his leg.

"You think I can hold a coupla' bucks?" Angel remained staring out the window.

Bobby rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"What's a couple?"

"Two hundred,"

"What the fuck do you need two hundred dollars for? No. I already know. I just need to know who you fucked over this time,"

"It's not even like that man,"

"Then what's it like?" Bobby said hugging the curb in front of the house. He smiled over at Jack to tell him to get out before looking back at Angel. He didn't blink when Jack shut the door. Just stayed focused on Angel and how much he wanted to punch him in the face.

"Alright..." he began, already noticing how much more comfortable Angel was without Jack in the car. Bobby knew it was just instinct. Angel didn't really trust anyone, "so these dudes said that if I didn't come back to town and pay up then they would go after ma first,"


	6. Grace Of God Go I

**VI.**  
Jack wondered if they had been talking about him. Angel-- obviously-- didn't like him. He made that apparent. Of course, Jack was used to it. It always happened that way. Someone wouldn't like him. He would be thrown back just as easily as he had come.

Now, naturally, Jack knew that he never did make it easy.

Sometimes he would purposefully get kicked out. He had always planned on riding the adoption train until he was eighteen. Never settling down with one family. That seemed the smart way to go.

He never really liked the people anyway.

They were all so-obviously flawed. So easily-taken advantage of.

And Jack couldn't help but to wonder, at that moment, how long it would be before he took advantage of Evelyn and he wondered how long it would take her to look at him the same way all of the others did.

"_I know, I know but...I can't just ignore it. It's fifty dollars! Missing!"_

Or:

"_We really don't have enough money for him. I mean. We thought we did but then he started stealing food..."_

He wonders how long it would take for Evelyn to see the real him.

It only took Angel a minute.

And then he had to go off and tell Bobby about it.

Jack tried gripping the remote, unsuccessfully. He tried pressing in numbers. He didn't know why it mattered to him but he knew that they had to be talking about him.

He had just given up on the whole TV thing when Bobby walked in.

The first thing he noticed was that Angel wasn't with him.

He briefly glanced at Jack before moving on to the kitchen. "Ma not here yet?" he called over his shoulder, even though he had clearly seen, just as Jack that her car wasn't in the driveway.

"No,"

Jack was uncomfortable to say the least. How could he possibly be at ease? It seemed weird because he was more uneasy than all of those times he had followed unfamiliar people into dark alleys. He was more uneasy than he had been all of those times he had been "forced" to go with a family.

"Shit," Bobby mumbled under his breath, "I totally forgot about going to the store. You mind if we go tomorrow kid?"

Jack thought of the right answer. He, honestly, hadn't _actually_ expected Bobby to buy him clothes. Was he obligated? No. He had only been living there for a day. A day and a night. Jack still couldn't trust that he wouldn't be back on the streets the next day...or the day after that.

"No," he mumbled, sinking down into the couch cushions further.

He couldn't trust that he wouldn't _want_ to be back out on the streets.

Jack heard the car pull into the driveway and even with his limited experience he already knew that it was Evelyn's.

"Is that ma?" Bobby called out from the kitchen.

Jack wanted to tell him how it wasn't his ma. How he wasn't apart of their weird family. How he didn't even know if he wanted all of this.

"Yeah," he mumbled instead, already up and ready to help Evelyn with her groceries.

* * *

"I'm going to make this dinner if it's the last thing I do," Evelyn mumbled, nearly stabbing the bag of peas. She looked back, kind of embarrassedly, when she saw Jack coming out of the bathroom, "you would think that they're making everything child-proof now-a-days with how hard it is to get stuff to--" Evelyn pulled the top of the bag of peas apart, a smile of triumph flashing over her face, "ah ha," she turned quickly to face Jack who looks terribly out of place, "You can make the salad if you want,"

Jack chuckled inwardly, knowing that a salad was one thing that he couldn't screw up. And maybe that's why she figured it would be perfect for him.

He dumped the bag of pre-made lettuce into the provided bowl.

He wanted to ask her about where she worked. He wanted to ask her about her bringing him home. He wanted to ask her about what she really wanted from him. About Angel and Bobby and adoption and giving and taking and everything else. But his tongue, as always, seemed stuck.

She spoke next, conveniently with her back turned to him.

"I should warn you Jack that... we have to talk. About your parents,"

Jack nodded, instinctively, even if he didn't know how he felt about that.

"Are you ok with that?"

He nods.

"I can't have you here without it being...legal," she paused when she saw that Jack was blocking out everything she had been saying, "but we can figure that out later. I'm going to go tell Bobby to get his butt in here and help cook,"

Jack hates the way she smiles at him. Warm. Like she has some kind of joke that he's supposed to be in on. Like they share something they don't. Like he's supposed to know what she's thinking. It killed him that he didn't.

And yet, when she walks out of the kitchen he doesn't make a dash for it. Once more, he stays still and _he_ isn't even sure why.

"Where's Angel?"

Jack can hear voices faintly.

Bobby explaining how Angel and him had gotten into a fight and how he had "run away to Sofi's once more"

When she came back she was with Bobby.

"Well," she smiled even though Jack could tell Angel not being there bothered her, "let's eat,"

And he couldn't help but to compare this to those families he had seen on tv or in the few movies he had seen. They measured up pretty good. At least, compared to what he'd had before.

And that, although not saying a lot, meant something to him.

* * *

**Man that took a long time. Hopefully I still have some readers left...  
I have some new ideas but I'm still trying to figure out how I'll work them out so..yeah..look for it soon!**


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